


Slow Night

by QueenofCheese (Supertights)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Romance, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Mentions of Other Voltron Characters - Freeform, Multi, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, so many idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-12-29 17:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18298646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supertights/pseuds/QueenofCheese
Summary: Shiro and Matt cruise Garrison City looking for friends, food, and fun on the last night of summer. They'll get all three before the night is through, and a little trouble as well.





	Slow Night

The main street of Garrison City, is for lack of a better word, dead. It’s early though, not even dark, and Matt drives slowly, arm leaning out the window as he cruises looking for friends or trouble. In the passenger seat, Shiro rests his chin on one hand, bored. The breeze ruffles through the stiff sprout of hair he carefully styled before leaving home. Colleen had tried to clean it up, evening out the undercut to something he likes, but he’s left with long strands of hair at the peak that have to be manhandled into proper bangs.

That his hair is turning white escapes no one’s notice in the Holt household.

He’ll make the best of it, like he does everything. Sitting up, he rubs his face. He’s tired, always so tired now. “I’m hungry.” That too.

“Burgers? Tacos? Pizza? Donuts?”

Shiro grunts thoughtfully. “Burgers.”

They reach the end of Main Street and do a u-turn, the best burger place for blocks is in the other direction. He feels Matt glance at him a few times and eventually reaches out with his left arm to turn Matt’s face back around forward.

“Who’s that?”

Shiro follows Matt’s gaze to a striking figure, a vivid tattoo decorating their bared arm. “Never seen them before.” The figure stops to lock the only tattoo parlour in town. “N7.”

“N7,” repeats Matt softly, rolling it around his mouth a little. “Mysterious. Did I tell you I always wanted to get a tattoo.”

“Sure you do.”

“I have a new aesthetic, haven’t you noticed?” Matt shakes his head like a model in a shampoo commercial, and Shiro leans away to avoid being lashed in the face by the unleashed ponytail. Long hair, a fresh attitude, and now, potentially, a tattoo. Matt’s bad boy persona is almost complete, he just needs to be bad. And Matt is terribleat being bad.

“A tattoo of what?”

The thing is, Matt would totally get one just to impress someone he’s into. Because regrets were for old age.

“Something cool.” Matt watches N7 in the rearview mirror for a while before they drop out of sight behind them.

“Uh huh.”

The sun begins to dip past the horizon when they pull into the parking lot of the Burger Palace and sit in silence for a few minutes. Together they stare through the wide windows at their friends laughing and eating inside. Whole lives lie ahead of them, they can do anything, go anywhere, be with anyone. Shiro feels the sigh slip past his lips before he can stop it and Matt swivels to look at him again. _Really_ look at him. Shiro stirs uncomfortably, this is not one of the usual shallow gazes he gets from people, the kind that stop politely at the scar partially bisecting his face. The scar that's beginning to fade, to be less raw, less angry, and he’s not sure how he feels about that. Because _he’s_ still raw, though the anger has subsided into a deeper, more painful, wound over time.

“Don’t,” he says, and opens the door, swinging down out of the restored ATV that was the Holt family summer project. The door refuses to shut properly until his pushes all his considerable strength into it and hears a crunch from inside the locking mechanism.

“I wasn’t.” Matt is easily the chillest of his friends but even he’s been walking on eggshells around Shiro during the last stay in hospital. The one that he escaped from only a day earlier. ”Because that’d imply I care and I think we both know I don’t. Because I’m a bad boy.” It’s a lie. Matt cares too much, about too many things. He flicks invisible dust off the shoulder of his leather jacket and grins at Shiro. “Hand it over, I know the old man gave you some money for food.”

Shiro digs around his pocket for the cash Sam gave him on the way out the door, when he told them their curfew. Set a few hours later than either expected, it was generous but they’ll still stretch it by half an hour at least.

Matt leads the way through the door, and a hostess, wearing roller skates and a vintage waitress uniform, glides over towards the pair. She follows them through the aisles taking their order on the go and glides back to the counter effortlessly.

“Shirogane!”

“Holt!”

They hear their names as a hoot of noise that reverberates around the restaurant as other students pick it up and shout it out. In the corner, Adam and Ronnie have already claimed a booth for them, and Adam stands for Shiro to slide in next to Ronnie while Matt comes in from the other side. Shiro leans back into the worn leather seat, draping his arms across the back as Adam sits down again, his leg warm and solid against to Shiro’s. He wants to ease away from it but holds himself still, it’s been a long summer in many respects. Long enough to break up and get over their break up. Long enough for Adam to strike up a closer than close new friendship with Curtis from the cheer squad while Shiro was languishing in hospital.

“You okay?” asks Adam, sipping his drink.

“Yeah.” Sometimes Shiro misses the closeness they once shared. It got so acrimonious at the end though, he remembers that more than anything else. He’s glad they’re friends again. He surveys the room with a bored gaze, mentally cataloguing faces as he blindly steals fries from Adam’s tray. “Who’s that?” he asks suddenly, head inclining sideways towards Ronnie, because if anyone knows who small, dark, and mysterious sitting with her brother is, it’ll be Veronica.

“That’s Curtis, you’ve been tutoring him for a year. Did you suffer amnesia in the hospital? How could they let you out like this?” She turns sad anime eyes on him and feels his forehead with the back of her hand, then gives his bicep a squeeze, he suspects because it’s in easy reach. “It’s just tragic.”

“He’s not tragic.”

She shushes Adam. “He’s young, hot, and you broke his heart. That’s tragic.”

“I did _not_ break his heart, he broke mine.”

“Sitting right here, not tragic from Adam breaking up with _me_.”

“Still hot though,” muttered Adam, like it was Shiro’s fault he has good genes to go with the bad ones.

“Yes, but could you try not being so good looking? For Adam’s sake. I mean, the hair is a start,” asks Ronnie suddenly, like it was an option she hadn’t thought of. She touches the white with a frown and Shiro bats her hand away.

“Is it though?” says Adam with a frustrated sigh. “It looks good, it shouldn’t but it does.”

Matt wheezes, eyes streaming, as he tries not to enjoy Shiro’s roasting and fails.

“Can we not do this please? Over there, the next table. Sitting with your brother and Hunk.”

She rolls her eyes and flicks her handheld screen on. “I prepared a file earlier when Adam and I arrived. Kogane. Keith. Junior, in the same class as Lance. My brother’s great rival apparently, but in what we’ll never know, because Lance loses his shit every time anyone talks about Kogane’s time on the simulators. He’s coming close to beating your record so I have to assume it’s one of the pilot tracks but with Lance, it could be anything that’s set him off. I don’t know Kogane personally but observation is that he’s quiet, keeps out of trouble. Probably plays with knives in his spare time, it’s the quiet ones you have to watch.” Adam brays a laugh and a fry goes down wrong and Shiro has to pound his back to loosen it. Ronnie appears thoughtful for a moment. “Why is he sitting with Lance? Are they frenemies now?”

Shiro snorts and looks over just as Keith glances back at him.

Everything slows and his vision tunnels in. “His eyes… w-what colour do you call that?” He stops breathing and his heart beats a little harder under the intense gaze or from a lack of oxygen. Shiro swallows and turns away to regain his composure just as Matt, Adam, and Ronnie all look at Keith in sync. “Don’t stare,” he whines, and Keith blushes under the intense scrutiny, ducking back under his bangs.

The other junior at the table, Hunk, grins and waves at them. They wave back slowly.

“Purple.”

“Purple.”

“It’s purple.”

Shiro has his handheld out and is carefully checking the various shades of purple Keith’s eyes could match. “Purple, but like royal purple,” he agrees reluctantly.

“Do you think Keith noticed us?” asks Matt slyly.

Adam laughs softly. “Not when we were being so _subtle_ about it.”

Shiro glares at the pair. “I said not to stare.”

“Did you though?” Matt gives him a grin megalomaniacs would envy.

“I didn’t hear you,” adds Adam, taking off his glasses and polishing the lenses.

“Move, Holt,” orders Ronnie, and Matt slides out of the booth awkwardly to let her escape.

She’s sitting at Lance’s table a moment later, eating his fries and smiling at Keith who’s frowning at everyone around him, his eyebrows are doing a thing that has Shiro mesmerised up until his food appears. He and Matt fall upon the burgers and eat like they’ve been starved.

Ronnie returns with a grin reserved for Shiro.

He feels goosebumps in anticipation and shivers. “Adam, can I?” she asks, and Adam gets up, rolling his eyes. Ronnie slides in and they all shuffle around again. Finally, she leans in close to Shiro, whispering. “Are you ready?”

Shiro hesitates, it’s not the way he does things. He likes information to come slowly from the source, like a mystery unfolding just for him. “The broad strokes.”

“He’s a transfer, he likes sports but not teams, his dad is the new fire chief, he has a dog but wouldn’t tell me the dog’s name, didn’t mention a mom-- I think there’s a story there --and he sharpens knives in his spare time.”

He chokes on his milkshake and pushes her away, laughing. “You made that last one up.”

“Prove it, Shiro.” Ronnie knows what she’s doing; her eyes flash. If you like him, talk to him, is what she’s not so subtly implying. “Prove it,” she hisses.

“Maybe I will,” he says, rubbing his jaw and realising maybe he should have shaved earlier.

“Go talk to him.”

“Not yet.”

“Fine,” she scoffs, and eats the last of his fries.

“Okay.”

She sips his milkshake like she’s claimed it and made it her own. “I dare you.”

Matt whistles softly, looking from Shiro to Ronnie then back to Shiro.

“That’s my milkshake,” he reminds her mildly, taking it back. “Lemme out.”

“Don’t come crying when he shows you his knife collection.”

“You literally just dared me to go talk to him.”

“Knives are second date, maybe third.”

“We’re not dating!”

“Yet,” says Adam morosely.

Shiro goes to the jukebox first. It’s full of vintage music, half of which he hasn’t heard because no one wants to waste money on songs they don’t know, but there’s a mood to be set here. He needs to weave some Shirogane magic, put Keith at ease. He’s trying to decide what to play for his big move when he feels something squeeze in next to him. And he might’ve imagined it but he thought he heard a sigh that sounded an awful lot like, “Big.”

Keith is the same height as Matt but stronger if the lean muscles that pull his cropped jacket tight are anything to go by. He exudes quiet energy, like he could burst into action any second. His dark hair smells clean, like crushed mint and sliced cucumber in the sunlight, and the ends flick around wet like he just stepped out of a shower. Keith might have a mullet, but it’s a clean, soft, nice smelling, slightly wet mullet.

“Hey,” says Shiro more casually than he currently feels, a light blush warming his cheeks. He doesn’t take his eyes off the playlist, he can’t or he’ll disintegrate-- explode into atoms that will reform, see Keith right there and explode again.

“Hey,” comes the reply. “Is that a jukebox? I’ve never seen one that actually works.” The voice is all rough edges trying to be softer.

Nodding, Shiro moves a little to the right so Keith can stand in front of the machine. “What song should I play?” he asks, trying to ascertain if the mint and cucumber has a hint of underlying strawberry but looking a lot like he’s sniffing Keith’s hair.

Easing in front of the list, Keith stares down and a little frown wrinkles his brow as he concentrates. “I don’t know any of these. Maybe that one? It sounds funny.”

Shiro doesn’t look to see what Keith chose. “Why don’t you punch it in?”

Keith turns those eyes on him for a second, then enters the code. Music begins to play and Keith looks back at his table where Lance is glaring at him and Hunk is grinning.

“Um,” he says, eloquently.

“Uh,” replies Shiro, nodding. “Oh, and I’m Shiro. Uh, Takashi Shirogane.”

“Yeah, I know.” Keith blushes suddenly. “Lance’s sister told me. I’m Keith. Kogane.”

“Yeah, Ronnie told me.” Shiro snorts and notices Matt gesturing at the door anxiously.

His heart plummets, he’s barely had a minute to talk to Keith alone and Matt is already murdering him dead by trying to leave. “Hey, my ride is going… so I gotta go… too. See you around sometime?” He looks at Keith hopefully. “Maybe later, we might swing by the donut place.”

“Maybe,” says Keith, his voice doing a thing that might just suck the cute out of a box of puppies it’s so sad. He ducks his head, glancing at his table again. Hunk’s giving him a very obvious thumbs up. “I like donuts,” he says suddenly.

“Me too.”

Matt is halfway to the exit when the door opens and Katie walks in with Sam and Colleen. Shiro groans as they all wave brightly at Matt who glowers back at them. His parents ignore his dark frown and walk towards the counter but Katie makes a beeline for Shiro since Matt has already slunk past and out into the night.

Adam and Ronnie run for it before she gets to the table. “See you later, at the lake,” Adam murmurs, slipping something into Shiro’s hand as he arrives back just to see them go. Shiro shoves it into his pocket quickly.

“Bye, Adam! Bye, Ronnie!” Katie swoops in next to Shiro, wrapping her arms around his middle. “I talked Mom and Dad into burgers. Surprise!”

Outside in the family car, parked neatly next to Matt, Bae Bae’s head hangs out the window, drooling and panting, and staring at Matt. It doesn’t escape Shiro’s notice that Keith is watching it all from his table, head ducked down, his eyes twin bright sparks beneath his hair. “We’re getting a dog burger for Bae Bae.”

Shiro nods and hugs her back. “Good call. Bae Bae loves the dog burgers here. Hey, see you at home, okay? I gotta go, Matt’s waiting.”

She releases him with a sigh and sits in the abandoned booth. “Fine, later. Tell Matt to bring you home safe.”

He smiles at Keith and walks into one table, two chairs, and clips the door on the way out. It gets a shy smile from Keith that has Shiro grinning.

Matt is seething in the driver’s seat when he swings up into the car, making a quick fix to the door latch so it shuts but it’s going to need to be removed and repaired properly tomorrow. “Honestly. There’s a thing called drive-thru!” He throws his hands up in the air and pokes his tongue out at Katie who has pressed her face up to the window and is pulling faces at him. “Why is my sister so adorable?” he growls at Shiro. “Why?”

“You okay?” Shiro asks but Matt glares at him and starts the car, and they pull out of the parking lot with a screech of tyres.

“I think I need a drink, did you bring your fake ID?”

“No point remember.” No drinking. No exertion. No fun.

Matt guns it up the main street and Shiro hopes to hell there’s no cops around to see it and report back to Sam. “There’s gonna be beer at the lake, Matt.” He doesn’t know that for sure but it’ll get Matt’s head out of his ass for a while. It’s also a reservoir not a lake but semantics.

“Right,” his friend replies a little calmer already. “Yeah. Ronnie might’ve mentioned it while you were smelling someone’s hair.”

Shiro groans in embarrassment.

They leave the city limits and head out of town but it’s too early to go to the party. He sends Ronnie a message and a few minutes later she links him to Keith’s profile. It’s bare of details but has a photo of him wearing aviators and a sleek red and white jacket, hugging a dog that's technically larger than him. Shiro’s thumb hesitates over the send friend request button for a few minutes before he shuts the handheld and sticks it back in his pocket. Matt glances at him and clicks his tongue, like he’s disappointed. They go off road in the desert for a while, where the air is different from town. Shiro loves it out here, makes a point of hiking as often as he can, which is not often now. He frowns. Because he wants to live life, not just endure it. Sweat pools between his shoulder blades in the muggy heat and he takes off his jacket, tossing it in the back seat.

“Hot tonight,” he murmurs and Matt agrees.

This far out, it’s so dark, the only lights they see are usually their own but far ahead, on the shoulder of the road, a set of hazards blink at them. They drive back up onto the highway and when their headlights get close enough, they see two people standing by a car that has the hood up. A beautiful girl leans back against the car and she straightens to wave at them as they come closer. A silvery summer halter dress flares out from the waist in a swirl around her legs and her snowy hair, caught by the slight breeze, streams out like a comet behind her.

“Need any help?” asks Shiro as Matt pulls them up alongside.

“Wouldn’t mind it,” says a voice with a foreign twang. A red haired man with greasy hands appears beside her, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. Considering it’s probably a flat battery at most, Shiro has no idea where all the grease came from. “Everything under the bonnet is in the wrong bloody place, back to front and spun around. I can usually fix any engine problem but this one has me completely bamboozled.”

“Okay, we’ll have a look.”

Matt drives ahead and parks in front of the broken down car. “I’m Matt,” he says to the girl, before ducking down to look under the hood.

“Allura, and that’s Coran.” She leans back against the car again, studying Shiro, who is standing watching Matt and Coran point at things under the hood, shaking their heads. “Do you think your friend can fix it?” Her accent is different from Coran’s.

“Shiro. And maybe. If Matt can’t fix it, we’ll tow you back to town.” He can see a rodent palace in the backseat, carefully secured by multiple seat belts and a few bungee cords. “You have rats?”

She laughs and glances in with visible affection. “Mice, but it’s more like they have me wrapped around their tiny thumbs. They’re all asleep now, it’s been quite the day for them.”

“Can you try starting it, Allura?” calls Matt, leaning around to interrupt.

She nods and sits in the driver’s seat, pressing the start button. It coughs and tries to catch but fails. “Again?” she asks.

“Gimme a second.” Matt grunts and smacks something hard with a tool, or at least that’s what it sounds like to Shiro.

“Once more, my dear,” he hears Coran call this time. The engine starts up first time. “Don’t turn it off, Allura, I’ll be there in a tick. Well done, chaps.”

They follow the two visitors back into Garrison City, seeing them delivered safely to the Star Castle, a cheesy sci-fi themed motel a street back from Main. Allura runs back out as they reverse to leave and hangs at Shiro’s window. “Is there a good place to eat in town? Coran could eat a pack of wild yalmor’s.”

Matt leans to look at her. “What’s a yalmor?”

Shiro waves his question off for later. “There’s a diner in the main street and the burger palace, the taco palace, the donut palace, and the pizza….”

She interrupts with a kind laugh. “Let me guess, palace?”

“Yeah, we’re a town full of palaces without any princesses.”

“Until now,” murmurs Matt, leaning forward, putting on charm that Shiro hadn’t seen before. He’s also leaning on Shiro like he’s furniture and not his best friend in the entire universe. “We can take you if you like.”

Allura looks uncertain for a moment then smiles. “Give me a tick to let Coran know and I’ll be back.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just more of my usual BS. I have abandoned nothing, I am just the slowest writer in existence.
> 
> All my mistakes are now embedded and eternal. (Okay one quick fix because it was causing me pain to see it there.)
> 
> Core idea adapted from American Graffiti, but only very loosely though. None of that epilogue business.


End file.
